none is left to protest
by thatssupersketch
Summary: When Elijah's company of soldiers settle in Mystic Falls, love fills the air. Stefan seems to be taken with young Caroline, while Damon and Elena fight constantly. When Klaus begins to stir up trouble, will Damon and Elena put aside their differences to salvage their friends' relationships? (aka the much ado about nothing au you never knew you needed. set in 1864.)
1. Act 1 Scene 1 (first half)

Sultry sun and the air of mystery never left adolescents wanting. The hot air in Mystic falls combined with the unbridled energy of the younger generation just begged for someone to light the fuse. Summer was nearly over, though the heat always long overstayed its welcome, far into August. It had previously been too hot to attend social events, but as the summer drew to a close, everyone knew what was in store for them. Dances, balls, you name it—Mystic Falls never lacked for entertainment in the fall and winter months. Everyone was ecstatic…that is, except for Elena.

Elena knew that the end of summer was not all everyone seemed it to be. Not only would all her friends' social lives be in full swing again, but the soldiers would come home soon.

And that meant _he_ would be back.

Unlike her friends, Elena had quite enjoyed her uneventful summer. Days of lazing around the house and reading had done her quite a bit of good. She even made gratuitous steps in increasing her writing abilities. Journals upon journals lined her shelves, and they were her proudest achievement. She took them with her when she came to live with her Uncle John and his daughter Caroline. The plantation was new and large, and the girls spent a good portion of the summer exploring the house. Elena would make up stories to entertain her cousin, and Caroline would catch Elena up on the latest gossip in Mystic Falls, as Caroline actually took the effort to venture to town once a week.

But now the good times were over. They were all inside a shop near the center of town square, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the soldiers. Elena absentmindedly fiddled with the sleeves of her dress before being caught by Caroline with a querying look. She quickly let her sleeve drop, not wanting to discuss the recesses of her mind with Caroline. Not today.

Her Uncle cleared his throat. "I have received a letter from Elijah. He has told me that his company will march into town tonight."

"He must be near by now," Kol, Elijah's brother, answered. "I passed him not nine miles from here, and I have been here half the day," He kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, and Elena couldn't tell if it was because he was uneasy or excited of his brothers' return.

"Was anyone killed in the last battle you fought?" John twisted the large ring on his finger thoughtfully.

"No one important," he scoffed .Kol was Elijah's messenger of sorts; he fought with the men, but was typically sent on ahead to scout or to let towns know of their upcoming arrival.

"My good man," he patted Kol's shoulder heartily with a grin on his face. "A battle isn't truly victorious unless the soldiers return home safely. Although, I do hear that young Salvatore has moved up the ranks?"

Kol sighed, seemingly tired from talking about people that were not himself. "It's true. He may be the younger Salvatore, but the boy fights like a lion. He's exceeded all that Elijah's ever expected of him, and then some. I wouldn't be surprised if Elijah chooses him to be his next second in command." He looked sullen about this turn of events, but continued anyways. "We'll be sure to hear about him highly, at any point."

"His uncle Zachary will be very pleased by this news, I'm sure."

Elena couldn't stand there listening to them prattle about Stefan this whole time. "Will Benedick be with the returning company?"

Kol looked puzzled. "I'm sorry; miss, but I do not know anyone by that name."

"She means Damon Salvatore, Kol." John could only spare her a halfhearted glare. Elena knew her wit would impress her old uncle, as she knew him to be a rather large fan of Shakespeare. If her insults had to lie within Shakespearean insults, she could live with that.

"Oh, yes, he will return. That lad's as cheerful as ever."

Elena rolled her eyes. "Damon, cheerful? He is more stupidly happy than anything." This earned a nudge from Caroline. "How many men did he kill in battle? Let me guess; none. I always knew he could never handle it. Too much a lover, not much a fighter."

"Elena!" John said sternly. "If you keep talking poorly of Damon everywhere you go, it will catch up to you."

"Damon did serve well in the company." Kol interjected. "He's a good soldier, miss."

"He's a good soldier to a miss? Then what shall he be to a Lord?"

"Beatrice!" John said again, sharper this time. "Kol, don't take my niece the wrong way. Damon and Elena have their own battle brewing; each time they meet, their wits are at war."

She let a genuine smile grace her face, the kind that could only be earned. "And I always win. The boy's trouble. Who is he even hanging around these days? Every week I see him, he has a new best friend."

Kol narrowed his eyes, not wanting to take the bait. "Really?"

"Truly," Elena nodded sincerely, knowing her large brown eyes could make up for any lack of convincing her tongue could not. "He's very fickle. Just ask the ladies."

"It isn't hard to tell you don't care for Damon," Kol chuckled.

"That's an understatement," she retorted drily. "But really, who does the infamous Damon Salvatore hang around these days? What kind of trouble is he in now?"

"Ah, that's old news. Him and his brother are inseparable."

"No!" Elena mocked, fanning herself. "Poor Stefan! Damon will corrupt him and there will no longer be the good, pure, and moral Salvatore."

Kol eyed her warily. "I'll be sure to stay on your good side, Lady Beatrice."

Kol may be trouble, Elena thought, but at least he knows who not to take as enemies. The only thing worse than having her as an enemy would be having both her and Damon as enemies. His life would be a living hell, they would be sure of it. "Smart man."

"You'll never fall for Damon, then?" Caroline pouted. She always was the hopeless romantic.

Elena leaned forward to whisper into her cousin's ear. "Not until hell freezes over."

Caroline sighs, seemingly disgusted with Elena's lack of interest in a love life, but quickly throws the guise of sadness away when she saw motion outside the window. "Oh! Look, they're back!" she squealed, making a beeline for the door.

Everyone rushed outside, much to Elena's disdain. Not wanting to be left alone in the store or wanting to explain to her uncle why she hadn't been there to meet the soldiers, she reluctantly followed the group out the door.

"Ah, John!" She heard Elijah say, crisp and clear. "I know hosting the company is a burden, but I do greatly appreciate your hospitality. With a full company, you almost seem to be looking for trouble!" he laughed. Elena could listen to him talk all day. He still held the hint of a British accent, and was always the most finely dressed out of his ruffian group of followers, Damon included.

"You're never trouble! It's an honor," John said, reaching for his hand with a sincere smile on his face. "You and your lot are always welcome."

"You seem to be far too excited about this," grins Elijah, before turning to the rest of his family. "This must be your daughter?"

"That's what her mother tells me," he says drily.

"Did you not know she was your daughter, as you had to ask her mother?" A smooth voice interjects. Elena didn't see him till he stepped around the masses, but he looks as if he had never left. Curly black hair, unruly; but parted to the side. Ice cold blue eyes. An eternal smirk that never seemed to leave his face. Damon Salvatore was truly back, and couldn't leave soon enough.

"Oh, not really. You were only a child, and not yet old enough to seduce my wife, so she must be mine," jests John, clearly enjoying his new friends. Elijah pulls John to the side to discuss further arrangements, and this, unfortunately, leaves Elena alone with the object of her loathing.

"If you are the father, I'm sure she wouldn't want to be a crazy Gilbert like you!" Damon called, clearly enjoying the banter.

"I can't believe you're still talking," Elena said in a sickly sweet voice and narrowed her eyes. "No one's listening to you."

"Ah," Damon greeted her with a wry grin. "Look, it's my fair and sweet Elena! Aren't you dead yet?"

Damon was attractive and charming, as much as she hated to admit it. It almost made up for his scalding wit and his mistreatment of her and her heart. His smile never faltered, wit never wavered, charm never ceased. Most of the ladies in Mystic Falls were head over heels for him, but it made no difference. Damon had sworn off love and all it entailed.

"Even my politeness has boundaries, Damon. And you're sure to cross them."

Damon meandered to the nearby flower bushes, seemingly examining every leaf. "You seem to be the only one with such a line to cross. All the other ladies have no such problem with me crossing their lines." He smirked over his shoulder. "It's too bad I have no heart," Damon sighed dramatically. "The ladies do love me." He held out a flower with his trademark grin, as if it certified his statement. She rolled her eyes.

"I'd consider that a good thing," Elena quipped, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You would be a terrible suitor. Thankfully," she said dramatically, placing her hand over her heart for emphasis. "I feel the same way you do. I'd rather have a dog bark for hours on end outside my window than hear any man's declarations of love."

Damon pondered this for a moment. "That's probably for the best, then. Or else some suitor will end up maimed by the experience, and all."

"Your face couldn't look worse for the wear."

Although Damon had kept his demeanor relatively unruffled till this point, this seemed to light a fuse. "Lady Elena, you know very well my face is not displeasing to your eye. In fact, I quite remember you saying something rather kind about my looks only last summer."

"I said no such thing!" Elena protested, but her face showed otherwise. As much as she enjoyed verbal sparring, he always had to take things too far. Bringing up last summer, for goodness' sake. He was the one who ruined it, and she wasn't about to let him mock her for wrongs he had caused.

Damon sighed and tossed the flower over his shoulder. "Of course, Elena. Listen to you; you just sit there and mock me with insults I've heard thousands of times before."

Elena grew angrier at each passing insult. "I'd rather be the one repeating insults than the one who actually deserved them," she said coldly. Elena's filter may not have operated the best it ever had when she was angry, but at least she could keep her wits about her. Damon couldn't say the same. She'd see him fly off the handle thousands of times before. In fact, she had been the cause of it the majority of the time.

"That's it. I'm done," Damon said flatly, and stormed out of the garden.

"Always the coward, Damon," Elena called after him. "This isn't the end."

Damon waved her off without turning around.

Without even meaning to, Elena's eyes trailed him until she couldn't spot his gray confederate uniform anymore. Hearing her uncle's voice, she decided to make herself scarce until she could find her misplaced cousin again.


	2. Act 1 Scene 1 (second half)

"That's the spirit, John!" Elijah said heartily, clapping the plantation owner on the back. John laughed, his mood seemingly improved from Elena's antics earlier. Elijah's smile was easy to come by, and naturally set everyone around him at ease. He was very charismatic, as was Damon, but in a way that made people much more comfortable to be around him. While Elijah's charm would be in place at a ball, Damon's charms erred on the side of danger, dangling on the razor's edge.

He turned to his counterparts. "Stefan, Damon! Our good friend John has offered to host our company for the month, although, from his hospitality, it seems he wishes we would stay longer!"

"Of course I am, my boy! It's an honor. You are welcome as well, Niklaus. As you and your brother are now on good terms, I owe you my allegiance as well."

"Klaus." A smile tugged at his lips. "I thank you, Mr. Gilbert. I am not one to waste words on such trivial things, but thank you." While Elijah was constantly making friends and doing his best to keep them, his brother seemed to be apt at accomplishing the opposite. Only recently had the brothers been on good terms, and it often seemed shaky at best. The brothers' past was not something that was discussed between any of the company. Klaus was normally the quieter of the two, but if you asked any of the company, he usually seemed to be up to something, albeit trivial. He was wary and had every right to be. Elijah was the one who inherited the family plantation. Klaus was simply the bastard brother who had ranking but nothing to his name.

John cleared his throat. "Mr. Mikaelson, would you mind leading us into dinner? You are the guest of honor, after all."

"Let us go in together," Elijah said, motioning for his men to follow after.

As the men filed into the lavish dining hall, Stefan and Damon remained outside the doors. Stefan was pacing the stretch of floor, brow furrowed. Damon was leaning against the wall, amusedly watching his brother. This was a testament to their personalities; one brother caring too much, the other, not enough.

Stefan stopped his pacing long enough to make eye contact with his brother. "Damon, did you notice John's daughter?"

"When do I not notice girls?" Damon shot back; enjoying his brother's growing discomfort at the prospect of anyone else being interested in Caroline. "I'm only teasing. Yes, I did see her, but she did not catch my eye."

"Is she not a wonderful young lady?" He said, a bit dazed. His gaze was drawn towards the window, where all the young ladies were coming in from the orchard to join the dinner party.

Damon scoffed. "Do you really want my opinion? You, of all people, know how I criticize women. Would it be wise for me to shatter your illusions with unforeseen faults?"

"Please, Damon. Speak as plainly as you will."

"Well…" Damon brought a finger to his chin, pretending to ponder the girl. "She's too short to be thought of highly, too dark to be fair, and too small to be considered great."

Stefan sighed at his brother's attempt at wit. "Damon…"

"Well, she is who she is… I don't like her." He said matter-of-factly.

"Ha, ha," Stefan jeered. "You jest, surely, Damon, but I grow tired of your wit. What do you really think of her?"

"Why do you ask, brother?" He grinned maliciously. "Thinking of making a purchase?"

Stefan looked toward the window once more. "Would it even be possible to buy anything as rare and precious as Caroline?"

Damon's grin grew large and he held his hands to his chest in mock earnest. "Oh, yes! And I bet you could find a fine case to place her in, too." He dropped the smile and rolled his eyes. "Are you telling the truth or not? If I'm going to play along, I have to know which tune to follow."

Stefan ignored him. "She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"I don't see it. If her cousin Elena hadn't such a nasty temper, she would be much more beautiful than Caroline." Damon paused. "All this talk about girls—this doesn't mean you're looking to get married, does it?"

Stefan wouldn't look him in the eye. "Although I did once swear never to marry, I do not know if I can keep that promise if Caroline—"

"What is with men these days?" Damon railed. The brothers had sworn this promise together not a year ago. Could this girl have infiltrated his mind so much he was willing to throw his vow away? "Is not any man content to be a bachelor? She'll be unfaithful, Stefan. If you want to throw away your life, and your free time, be my guest. But mark my words, brother; you will not receive sympathy from me."

Luckily for Damon, their leader approached, cutting the stem for any further argument on the subject. "Look, it's Elijah."

Elijah held his wine glass out in greeting, the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "What secrets have you brothers been keeping?"

Damon smirked. "You would have to force me to tell."

"Loyalty, Damon," he said seriously. "You are required to tell me."

The smirk dropped from his face, only to be replaced by a sullen look. He did not like to be ordered around, but you could always find your way around most compulsions if you thought about it enough. He was excellent at following orders but not in the way that was originally intended. "I do like to think I can be trusted with secrets. But," he continued, a mischievous look now adorning his face, "my loyalty is to you. I must confess. Stefan is in love. With who, though, that's the question, isn't it?" Before Stefan could protest, Damon dug his hole deeper. "With none other than Mr. Gilbert's lovely daughter, Caroline."

Stefan simply glared, while Elijah looked highly amused. He shrugged. "Let it not be said that I am not a loyal man."

"Not to your brother!" Stefan argued. He turned to Elijah. "I do not love her."

"Look at him deny it!" Damon laughed. "Not a minute ago, you were dreamily staring out that very window confessing your love for her." He did his best to reenact his brother's love-struck brooding, but wasn't satisfied with his imitation. "I just can't be you, Stefan. I don't have the hair. Or the moral obligations."

Stefan shrugged, looking to Elijah as if he was his only hope. "I might love her," he said softly. "I must admit."

Worried at his friend and superior's response, Stefan glanced at Damon, who rolled his eyes, wanting to be the least involved in this drama as possible. Elijah's stern countenance grew into a genuine smile, relieving one brother and surprising the other. "That is good, Stefan. She is indeed very worthy of your love."

"You must jest," Stefan said slowly. "Are you trying to pull the wool over my eyes?"

"No, no, I'm very serious," Elijah said, raising an eyebrow. "When have you ever known me to lie? I am a man of honor, after all. I do swear."

"I, too, swear. I am in love with Caroline."

Damon sighed exasperatedly. "And I, too, swear that I spoke honestly and bluntly when said this was an absolutely _terrible_ idea."

Ignoring Damon, Stefan soldiered on. "I really do love her."

"She is worthy of your love, Stefan?"

"Didn't we _just_ go through this? No one marks what I say," Damon said, emphasizing every word in hope for a greater impact on his brother's love addled brain. "Nothing will change my mind about this, although I wish it would change yours."

This finally caught Stefan's attention. "You never did believe in love, brother," he said wryly.

"Or reason," said Elijah distastefully.

Damon put his hands up in mock surrender. "I do thank my mother for giving birth to me and raising me, but beyond that, I want nothing to do with women and marriage. Marrying one will soon lead to their own infidelity. In lieu of insulting any specific woman, it's simply best to avoid them all. Therefore, I shall remain a bachelor and save my money."

Elijah smiled into his wine glass, sharing a knowing look with the younger Salvatore brother." Mark _my_ words, Damon, before I die, I will see you sick with love."

"Never!" Damon said adamantly. "I want nothing to do with the sort. You will likely see me sick with many other things, but never love, my friend. I'd rather-"

He cut him off. "We'll see. I'll remember this fuss you made."

"And I'll say I told you so," Stefan interjected.

"If I change my mind, you lot can use my as target practice as you're suiting up to be Cupid. Whoever hits the bullseye is my hero," Damon deadpanned.

"Damon, really," Elijah sighed. "You'll regret those words, as they will likely be your demise. While you're waiting to die before you marry, you might as well hurry to the dining hall. Do give him my respects, and tell him I will be back shortly. I have business to attend to, and Stefan should be present as well. Excuse us," he bowed and continued his way down the long hallway that led into the dining hall, Stefan following on his heels. The Gilbert mansion was large, and Damon regretted that he would not be present long enough to explore it as he would wish to. He had always loved large houses, and could not wait to make it home again to their plantation. It was on the outskirts of Mystic Falls, but with the company staying here and it being over a day's ride, it would not be likely he could visit home this month.

Damon sighed and turned towards the dining hall, knowing he must relay Elijah's message to their host, but not liking the odds it gave him of running into unwelcome Gilbert relations.

While Damon was playing nice with the host and his party, Stefan struggled to keep up the pace at which Elijah was going. "Elijah? What are we doing?"

Elijah rounded another corner into a room he had not seen before and closed the door. "Elijah?"

Noting the concerned look on his friend's face, Elijah placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Stefan. I am your friend, and you have my loyalty. I want to help you."

"With Caroline?"

"Yes, of course!" Elijah smiled. "Just tell me what you would like me to do."

Stefan scuffed the floor with his foot. "Well, I met Caroline after I had enlisted but before we marched. I looked on her with the eye of a soldier. I didn't want to get too attached and then go off and die in battle. My mind was occupied with wartime thoughts, and left no room for entertainments of love. But now that the war's over, at least for now—all I can think about is Caroline. She's beautiful, and I do not believe I would feel this way if I hadn't felt it before I left."

"Stefan, enjoy it," he encouraged, knowing how young hearts did grow in these endeavors. "And worry not. I will speak to John for you. I'll convince him to let you marry Caroline. Is that not satisfactory?"

Stefan smiled, embracing his friend. "You can see how I feel, and I thank you for granting me the validity of it, as well in your actions of securing it."

"Anything for my second in command. Tonight there is to be a masquerade ball. I will disguise myself as you and woo the lovely Caroline. I'll pour out "my" feelings to her, and there is no doubt she will love you. It is hard to miss the way she looks at you. With this being done, I will talk to her father. He will not refuse my approval, as with it comes my friendship. In the end, she will be wholly yours. Come, let us put our plan into reality."


	3. Act 1 Scene 2

"Alaric!" called John across the empty foyer of the Gilbert mansion. The day was bright and the halls were alive with the merry company of soldiers invading its halls. However, as the day began to grow cooler, most of the young women and men that chose to accompany them relocated to wandering the gardens. As of this hour, the halls were empty save for the scampering servants preparing for the night's ball.

He quickly closed the steps between them, drawing near to the steps Alaric was standing on. "Have you seen Jeremy? Has he taken care of all the preparations we ought to?"

"Yes, yes, John," Alaric sighed exasperatedly. His patience was thin, as always. He was nursing a bottle of strong alcohol and it wasn't even suppertime yet. "He has a good head on his shoulders. He'll take care of it. Actually," he started, glancing around the room warily, "I do have concern to talk to you."

John laughed, brushing off his characteristic worry. "What could there be to worry about? The company's all settled and we have a wonderful party tonight," he paused. "But knowing you, my friend, you will just as soon tell me anyways. Is it good news?"

Alaric shot him a dry look and continued. "I always bring good news. A servant of mine overheard Elijah and Stefan talking in a corner of the house they thought was deserted. Elijah is seemingly in love with Caroline." At John's look of befuddlement he shrugged. "I don't know, don't ask me. But he is going to propose to Caroline tonight at the masquerade. If she agrees to his _proposal_ ," he said distastefully, "then he is going to find you and ask for her hand."

He narrowed his eyes. Trusting a drunken man wasn't always the wisest advice, but it tended to be the most truthful. "Is your servant a man to be trusted?"

"If you don't believe me, I'll bring him so you can ask him yourself, as you seem to be set on being such an inquisitor today."

"No, no," John waved his hand dramatically. "We'll pretend it's a dream until it comes true, as nothing's ever as it seems to be in this town." He pondered the possible proposal for the moment. "But, if it be true, Caroline should be prepared to answer. Go and tell her for me, Alaric."

Alaric rolled his eyes. "My life is filled with teenage drama and angst," he muttered, turning to continue his journey up the stairs. As he exited, Jeremy filled the room with the requested help. The foyer was filled with musicians and household servants.

"We have work to do!" John exclaimed, unfazed by Alaric's bitter tone. "Excuse me!—Help me out—Come with me, dear—Jeremy, please do be careful. This ball is our family's legacy and will not be tarnished by inadequacy."


	4. Act 1 Scene 3

While the love-struck soldiers wandered the gardens with their fair companions, Klaus took solace in another form. He prided himself on being able to find the nearest alcohol within a day's time, and here he was, the day not even over. The cellar was damp and dark, but there were a few tables and chairs that had been moved around that made it habitable. It may not have been the ideal place, but there was no Elijah, and for that, Klaus was grateful.

He wasn't alone, either. Even if he abhorred his brother and the rest of the company, he still had decent companions. Tyler and Mason were cousins. They had joined the company against their will, which made them the perfect candidates for Klaus' henchmen, even if he would never call them that to their faces. They were his only friends in this God forsaken world, after all.

"Why are you so sad?" questioned Tyler, perusing through rack upon rack of wine. "You're normally sad, but even this seems to be a bit much."

Klaus swirled his wine, peering into the glass melodramatically. "There are multitudes of things to cause my sadness. It would logically follow suit that my sadness would follow in droves."

"You're always so gloomy," Tyler quipped, finally making a selection of wine and bringing it to the table. "If you listened to reason, we wouldn't be having this problem."

"If I sit and listen to your "reason," Tyler, what prize shall I win?" Klaus asked dryly.

"I know it won't end your suffering, but maybe it would bring around the patience to endure it."

Klaus snorted. "Ah, yes. Patience, that sounds like my strong suit, does it not?" He laughed bitterly. "I am truly amazed that you, with such a lack of control, are trying to give _me_ advice on this subject matter. I am what I am. I will do what very well pleases me, whether that is sad or brooding or whatever I like. I am not called to smile when others make jokes, and I will eat when I'm hungry, not when it's convenient. I will not charm and flatter others to get what I want."

"And that worked so well last time?" He said pointedly. "You're lucky you're back in your brother's graces now. I cannot imagine you'd be so ready to lose it. After you challenged him, everyone was sure there was no way you would regain your status. But here you are, and you can't do something that careless again. I can't believe I'm being the voice of reason," muttered Tyler. "I understand you want your revenge, but we have to time it well."

"But Elijah tricks everyone into liking him! I would rather be hated than be adored by all of the people he kisses up to. I may not be moral, as my brother claims he is, but I am honest. I am a plain dealing villain, after all. I'm not after tricks." He motioned for Tyler to top off his glass. "And you say my brother trusts me, ha! He trusts me as much as he could trust a dog—one that he has put on a leash. If I were loose, I would bite him. If I was free, I should do as I pleased. But I'm not, so I must bide my time. Until then, leave my personality alone. I am the way that I am and I have no desire to change."

Tyler rolled his eyes at the dramatic outburst. "Can't you use your outrage to your advantage? At least you would get something out of it, and Mason and I wouldn't have to listen to you wallow all day."

He shook a finger at him. "I do not wallow."

"Sure you don't."

"Anyways," he waved his hand in the air. "I use it all the time. It's my only helpful quality. Who's there?"

Mason peeked his head around the corner of the stairwell. "Mason?"

Klaus sighed. "Yes, I can see that. Why are you late?"

Regaining his confidence and shaking the befuddled look, Mason trudged down the rest of the stairs. "I was helping prepare the dinner the Gilberts are hosting in honor of your brother."

"This is a valid reason to be late because…?"

Mason smirked. "Because I just overheard news of an intended marriage."

"Hmm," Klaus sat up straight. "This may the perfect opportunity for mischief to arise! Who is all this marital fuss about?"

"Only your brother's favorite lieutenant."

"Salvatore? The younger one that spends so much time on his hair?"

"The one and only. I can't stand that one. Not that the other Salvatore's any better." Mason was the blunter of the two Lockwood cousins. While Tyler could act without thinking, he typically came about things in a more tactful way. Mason threw no caution to the wind, which annoyed Klaus to no end, but the characteristic had made him rather useful in past circumstances.

Klaus tapped his chin. "He's high in rank and favor of my brother. Who's the lovely lady who has caught his eye?"

Tyler laughed. "Like it's hard to guess."

"What do you know?" Klaus demanded.

He shrugged, taking a swig of his wine. "He was making eyes at Caroline all afternoon, it's hard to imagine someone didn't notice."

Klaus went stiff. "Caroline? The pretty, blonde, lively one?"

"The very one."

"This will indeed be an interesting game," Klaus said darkly. "Not only does my brother's right hand man flaunt his station over me, but fancies the girl I do as well. This is the perfect opportunity to get back at my brother."

Tyler wiped his mouth and grinned. "Now we're getting to the fun part."

Klaus got up and began to pace. "How did you come to learn this, Mason?"

"I was moving furniture. The young Gilbert boy put all the men to work, and I couldn't seem to escape fast enough. Luckily for us, I ended up in one of the back rooms that Stefan and Elijah entered a moment later. They came to an agreement that Elijah would woo Caroline tonight, and once won, hand her over to Stefan."

Mood brightening, Klaus spun on his heel to face Tyler. "Come on, come on! This evening may be fun yet. At least we won't spend it cooped up down here. We have an impending disaster to cause," He grinned cruelly. "This might just save my mood from where it had been set to rest. It has always been Stefan's fault I never could overthrow Elijah—you can never trust a Ripper." Klaus shook his head. "If I can ruin his life tonight, I will indeed be overjoyed. Will you help me in this endeavor?"

Tyler stood up straighter. "Of course. To the death."

"Let's attend this lavish dinner tonight," Klaus mused. "Should we go set the scene?"

Mason laughed, ready to dive into whatever master plan Klaus was preparing. "Lead the way."


	5. Act 2 Scene 1 (part one)

The halls were extravagant with décor to set the mood for tonight, but the real excitement for tonight was amplified simply by all the ecstatic guests. As servants bustled around trying to tie up the final loose ends, the hosts of the party relaxed in the parlor before the storm truly began. John and Alaric both had a glass of wine in hand, reclining in their respective chairs. Bonnie topped them both off, which earned a wink from Alaric. Elena and Caroline sat on the couch, Elena with curls carelessly tossed over her shoulder, and Caroline sitting like very much the lady. Elena could act dignified in public as to not disgrace her uncle if she must, but he couldn't dictate her actions around her friends, and he most certainly could not discourage her wit in any situation. Katherine leaned against the back of the couch, fanning herself due to the heat of this late August. Elena didn't know if she would really consider Katherine her friend, as she got into trouble that Caroline wanted no part of, but Elena still liked hearing of her scandalous adventures, so Caroline tolerated her. As if Caroline could hate anyone.

John addressed the girls, finding the time fit to delve into their conversation. "Was Klaus at dinner tonight?"

"I don't think he ate with us," Alaric frowned. "But I do think I saw him."

Elena scoffed. "Lurking in the shadows, no doubt. He always has the oddest expressions on his face. I could've sworn he'd eaten something sour! Just looking at the man gives me heartburn."

Caroline giggled at this, but cast her eyes downward. Caroline had met Niklaus before, and seemed quite taken with him once. However, her father warned her off of him, as he was the bastard brother. Caroline didn't care for him anymore, but Elena knew she felt uncomfortable laughing at his expense. "He does have a rather gloomy attitude," she said gently, trying to disperse her cousin's harsh words.

Although Elena understood what Caroline was trying to do, she still had bad feelings about Klaus and wasn't going to stay silent about it. For Caroline's behalf, Elena decided to throw someone else into the fire—Damon. "If there were a man halfway between Klaus and Damon, he would indeed be an excellent man. One is far too much like a work of art—nice to look at, but never speaks—and the other, much like a spoiled little boy, always tattling."

John looked amused. "So the man would talk less than Damon, but be more jovial than Klaus—"

"If he were these things, as well as handsome, fit, and rich, he would not be in want for any woman in the world. All he would need was her good will."

Alaric laughed at Elena's cutting remark, but John found it soon growing old. "Elena, you will never marry if you keep such a harsh attitude."

"As much as I personally enjoy your wit and your company," offered Alaric, toasting her with his glass, "Your uncle is right. Men won't appreciate your wit and bad attitude as we do." John cleared his throat. "Well, not John. "

"I believe I can live with that," mused Elena. "The last thing I want at this point in my life is a husband. I can take care of myself." As an afterthought she added, "The worst would be a husband with a beard. It would be worse than sleeping in wool sheets." She shivered at the thought of that discomfort. Alaric looked slightly put off at this comment, but all was forgotten when Bonnie filled his glass again.

John raised an eyebrow at this. "You could simply marry a clean shaven man."

Elena sighed, leaning forward to rest her head in her hand. "What would I do with a man with no beard? Dress him in my close, as his face will be as smooth as mine? If he has a beard, he's more than a youth, but if he has no beard, he's not a man. If he's more than a youth he's not for me, and if he's less than a man, then I'm not one for him."

Alaric's brows shot up at Elena's blatant disregard for men of any sort. Turning to Caroline he whistled. "Well, Caroline, I hope you have more sense than your cousin. It would be wiser to follow your father's advice than your cousin's."

"I resent that."

He reached over and ruffled her hair. "Sure, kiddo. Where did Bonnie go?" Alaric looked concerned at the disappearance of the only one with a steady supply of alcohol. "I'm going to go find Bonnie. I'll catch up with you soon, the party will start before the hour's over."

As Alaric made his departure, Elena turned back to her uncle. "My cousin does have a duty to please her father—I have no father anymore, so I have no one to please. If the husband you choose for Caroline isn't to her liking, I hope she tells you that she will gladly take another, even if he is only a bastard."

"In legal or ethical senses of the term?" muttered Katherine.

"Both," smirked Elena. "The term all around suits him."

Ignoring the girls' quips altogether, John patted Elena's shoulder warmly. "Well, niece, I do hope that I shall see you married one day."

"When God makes men out of something other than dirt, do let me know. Why would I want a handful of dirt to control my life? I won't be married. Truly, if Adam is indeed the father of mankind, then his sons are my brothers…" Elena paused and placed her hand over her heart. "I do believe incest is a sin, Uncle." Katherine sniggered.

Deciding that it was best to ignore all the females in the room except for his daughter, John took Caroline's hand in his. He must have realized she was the only one in the room who actually valued his opinion. "Caroline, remember our conversation earlier. If Elijah asks for your hand, you know your answer."

Elena cut in again, enjoying riling her Uncle up too much. "But, dear cousin; make sure he does woo you properly. If he presses you too much, tell him that romance is like a dance; it has measure in everything. If you go too fast, you'll eventually fall from exhaustion and die." She patted Caroline's leg. "And you're better than that."

"You are exceptionally perceptive," said John flatly. "Though not encouraging."

"I have a good eye, Uncle," laughed Elena. "Unlike you, I can see what's in broad daylight."

Sending her a glare, John began to usher the girls out of the room. "The party will start shortly. Go get dressed and ready. Beatrice…" he drifted off, eyeing her warily. "Behave tonight. You may hold your own opinion about men, but don't ruin Caroline's chances."

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing, Uncle."

"Good. Then be down here at 8 sharp."

 **Can we get three reviews before I post the next chapter? That would be great** **Gotta have some motivation…**


	6. Act 2 Scene 1 (part two)

As dusk fell over Mystic Falls, the real magic began. There were carriages upon carriages lined up on the pavement in front of the Gilbert mansion, all filled with giddy young women and excited young men. Elena drew back the curtain and watched the commotion out of the window of her and Hero's room. She squinted; appalled at some of the outfits the girls wore. She could hardly believe they were appropriate, much less in style. Maybe they really did do things different in the South. "Caroline, is that _really_ the latest fashion?"

Caroline giggled. "Yes! Isn't it lovely?"

"I could think of other words to describe it."

She pouted, turning to Elena with a dress on each arm. "You would know this if you ever visited town. Which do you think would be best?"

Elena laughed, watching Caroline turn this way and that in front of the mirror. "I suppose if I had to choose, I'd choose the blue. It becomes you well."

She blushed. "Thank you!" Caroline paused, eyeing Elena's dress that she had been wearing all day. "Are you not going to change?"

"Must I?"

"Elena!"

"Fine, fine," she grumbled, heading towards her closet. She began sifting through her dresses. When she had originally come to Mystic Falls, she hadn't planned on attending any dances, but her Aunt Jenna insisted she would have use of a few nice dresses, and it seemed she was right. Quickly grabbing a red dress that seemed to be fancy enough for the masquerade, she held it up for Caroline's approval. "Will you do me up?"

Caroline squealed. "That's beautiful! I do believe you'll catch every man's eye tonight."

"But not Stefan," Elena said with a glint in her eye. "The whole company knows he only has eyes for you."

She cast her eyes to the ground. "I wouldn't mind if it were so," she said softly.

Elena turned, grasping her cousin by the shoulders. "He's a good man, Caroline. You are beautiful, kind, talented, and wonderful. He would be crazy not to love you. He would be a wise choice. One of the few you've made," she said in jest, grin adorning her face.

"I believe that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me!" Caroline laughed, embracing her cousin. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, darling Caroline," she said in an imitation of a man's voice, supposedly Stefan.

Caroline hit her shoulder. "Do you have our masks?"

"Of course!" Elena dug through her closet once more. "The only interesting part of this dance."

The girls donned their masks. Caroline looked Elena over once more before nodding her head with finality. "We're ready. Let's go."

Guests lined the back patio. Lights were ablaze, and the backyard garden was transformed into a celestial ballroom. Excitement buzzed in the air as everyone waited for the first dance to begin. Elena and Caroline wove their way throughout the throngs of people, giggling and running away once they would light on someone they knew.

"What are we waiting on?" whispered Caroline.

"The guests of honor, perhaps?" Elena mused.

As if summoned by the mere mention of their company, the soldiers made their grand entrance. They were all wearing their uniforms, but one thing differentiated them—their masks. There were intricate ones, there were gaudy ones, but one thing was the same—none were identical. Elena felt both amusement and a prick of annoyance at this, as this left her no way to identify Damon. To avoid him, of course.

Caroline appeared to be searching through the sea of masks to find someone as well. Although, in her instance, she actually wanted to dance with the man she was searching for. Tugging Elena's hand, she begged, "Let's go!"

Elena reluctantly followed. As they made their way to the group of soldiers that was already being assaulted by a horde of young ladies, a man approached them. Turning to Caroline, he bowed gracefully and took her hand to his lips. "My lady, will you dance with me?"

Blushing, Caroline was almost speechless. But as it was Caroline, she recovered quickly. "As long as you don't step on my toes, are handsome, and let me talk, I'm yours for the dance…and maybe a bit longer if I had a fine time."

"With me?"

Caroline smiled coquettishly. "If it pleases me to let you."

"When will I know the answer to that, lovely lady?" said the mysterious man. While Caroline flirted with her unknown suitor, Elena analyzed the situation. She wasn't familiar with many of the men's voices, but she knew for a fact it was not Damon. She would hardly let him snatch her cousin away with his womanizing reputation. The stranger was tall, and stood rather gracefully, if there was such a thing. He seemed to be comfortable in his own skin. If she had to guess, Elena would not think it Stefan, but there was no need to tell Caroline that yet.

"I'll let you know," Caroline giggled, grasping his offered hand, "When I see your face. God forbid you look like your mask."

"It would be a pity, lady, if I was indeed a bird. I promise you I am magnificent as Adonis."

As he pulled Caroline off to dance, Elena rethought the viable options for Caroline's mystery dance partner. While she did think she would recognize Damon's voice, it could have been him. The almost arrogance of tone suited him. She would just have to keep an eye on her cousin to make sure she stayed out of harm's way.

Matthew Donovan drew closer to Katherine, trying his best to corner to her. Little did he know, no one cornered Katherine Pierce. She did like to dance, but tonight, the lovely assortment of wine broken out for the event was enough to keep her off the dance floor.

He approached her with intent in his eyes. "Will you dance with me, Miss Pierce?"

She smiled sweetly, and pretended to ponder the question a moment. "No." At his look of utter rejection, she couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. She blamed his big blue eyes and the alcohol.

As he began the waltz, he tried to broach any topics he might seem of interest to her. Coming away with absolutely nothing, he sighed. "Well, I do wish you liked me."

"You're lucky I don't. My qualities are indeed the worst."

"Tell me one," he demanded. "It surely cannot be that bad."

"I say my prayers out loud," Katherine deadpanned. Lord, she could not get out of this dance fast enough. This song was seeming to last an eternity.

"Ah, but that only makes me love you more."

She rolled her eyes. "If only God would give me a good dance partner."

Matt smirked cheekily. "That would be me."

"You've stepped on my toes at least four times." Not even wishing to carry through the rest of the dance, she faked an apologetic smile and broke away from her relentless partner and once again made her way to the table housing the refreshments.

Bonnie sighed. "Alaric, I know it's you." He had been following her about all night. His dress was unkempt, his vest untucked partially from his trousers. The top buttons were undone. The only thing well put together about him was his mask, which suggested a well to do family by the craftsmanship. It only covered his eyes, and his lazy grin was out for the world to see. If he had not had scruff, Bonnie could have easily mistaken him as Damon Salvatore.

"No, it's not!" insisted the masked man in a slurred tone, hinting at his intoxicated state.

"No one else would drink this much this early into the night," she said, rolling her eyes. "Give in."

"No," she could see the corner of the masked man's lips draw into a frown. "I'm pretending to be him. I exceed his likeness too well, yes?" He laughed, and then proceeded to strike an Alaric like "pose."

Foregoing the rules of propriety, Bonnie latched her arm around the drunken man's waist. "Alaric or not, you can barely stand, sir." Pulling the man towards the stone benches surrounding the courtyard, Bonnie shook her head silently. She always seemed to get into the most trouble.

"You are Alaric, though," she said certainly. "No one else pulls off the look of intoxication so well. You've even his scruff and," she added while forcefully grabbing his hand, "your ring. Ha! Sir, even with a mask, you cannot fool."

The newly identified Alaric held up a finger and paused thoughtfully before answering. "I'm not."

Bonnie handed him off to the nearest group of servants, instructing them to flush the alcohol out of his system. She pursed her lips and sighed, glaring at her friend. "You're terribly hopeless."

While Caroline was off dancing with who knows what soldier attempting to steal her virtue, Elena decided to peruse the party. Let it not be said that Elena could not entertain herself. She made the expected rounds, talking to those she must in order to appease her uncle. She even danced a few waltzes with masked and unmasked men alike. As per usual, no one particularly caught her fancy. That is, until she caught one of the soldiers staring at her.

Uneasily, she prodded Katherine. "Do you see that?"

"What?" Katherine looked up from the drink she was nursing.

"I think he's looking at me."

Katherine narrowed her eyes at Elena. "He's wearing a mask," she said slowly, as if willing her to understand. "Do you jest, or are you sincerely that stupid?"

"I know, but—" Elena protested. She was no coward, but for some reason, the man opposite her made her extremely uneasy. His posture showed he was completely at ease, leaned up against a stone pillar. His uniform was well pressed and his shoulders broad.

"The decision is yours," she waved her hand, silencing her friend. "But his costume fits as if designed to yours."

His mask was truly the perfect counterpart to hers. The sun and the moon. While her mask was painted gold and radiated pure warmth, his was cold and silver. This did not lessen the intrigue of the man, however. She could tell by the craftsmanship that it was made well, and she was very curious about what soldier would put this much effort into obtaining a mask. Her mind was reeling with all the possibilities that could lay underneath.

As if noticing her hesitant gaze, he languidly offered a hand out. Elena nodded almost imperceptibly, and waited what seemed like ages for him to take the steps that brought him across the courtyard to her. Once again offering her his hand, she took it without question.

The soldier wrapped his arm around her shoulder blade, and slowly guided her right hand into his own, as if relishing the touch. Elena was stunned at his lack of speech, but altogether overwhelmed by the moment. She let herself, even if just for one night, be swept along with the tide without pausing for an instant to drop her anchor. His steps were without falter, effortlessly leading her through the crowd. One dance turned into three, but Elena couldn't bring herself to mind.

After the third dance, the stranger once again offered her his hand, and she accepted without hesitation. "You seem to be in a wonderful mood tonight," he quipped, breaking the silence.

She smiled genuinely. "Why would I not?"

"See," the soldier began in a low voice, "I've heard some things about you."

"Oh?" This gave Elena pause. For once, her reputation might have not done her well. "Pray, what would that be?"

The man laughed, deep and rich and everything Elena did not want to focus on at the moment but found herself dwelling on anyway. "I cannot myself believe it, as you have been perfectly lovely this evening. Rather—a friend of mine—previously mentioned that you were very scornful, and that your wit was simply manufactured of someone else's writing."

Elena's face grew hot. "Who dare make that accusation? My wit is my own, thank you," she said disdainfully. "Will you tell me who informed you so?"

"No, my lady, I cannot," the stranger said apologetically.

She pouted. It was uncharacteristic and a bit of an underhanded tactic, but altogether necessary. "And you won't tell me your name?"

He seemed startled, but composed himself quickly as he eased them into another dance. "Not now."

"Well," Elena mused, "It must be Mr. Salvatore. No one else would accuse my wit of being so. No one else would be bitter enough to aim for so low a blow."

"Who is he?"

"You really do not know him?" She looked doubtful. "The Salvatores own quite a bit of land in Mystic Falls. Stefan Salvatore is Elijah's right hand man. Surely you must know him?"

"I do know him. Is this the Salvatore you speak so ill of?"

Elena scoffed. "No, Stefan is wonderful. Rather, it's his eldest brother, Damon Salvatore. He's a nuisance. Are you sure you aren't aware of such a fool in your company."

"Believe me, if there was such a fool, I would be the first to know."

"I'm hard pressed to find he never once made you laugh," Elena giggled. "He makes our household laugh so."

"Who is this man?" asked the stranger, a bit more eagerly than Elena would have liked.

Damon wasn't so often a pleasant subject, but when the moments arose to jest at his expense, she could not often pass them up. "You truly want to know?" she whispered, as if she would let him in on a secret. He nodded his head quickly. "He's Elijah's personal entertainment—his only talent relies upon his ability to make up lies about others. Only the immature enjoy his company, and they don't even like him for his wit, but rather, his outrageousness. He's skilled in both amusing men and angering them in the same breath," she laughed guilelessly. "In fact, since you haven't met him, I'm sure he's out dancing…I could've sworn he stepped on my feet."

The silence following Elena's shining recommendation of Damon was deafening. She may not have known the soldier she was dancing with or what he looked like, but she was starting to like him nonetheless. There were very few times Elena wished she could take back words, but now was one of them. "Sir?" she queried, uncomfortable with the silence.

"When I meet this gentleman," he said slowly. "I'll tell him what you've said."

Elena couldn't quite decide whether his tone was amused or standoffish, but she didn't have much to go on considering her mystery soldier was wearing a mask. Choosing to ignore the palpable warning signs, she ventured ahead. "Please, do. Of course, he'll retaliate with his supposed wit…but if no one laughs, he'll sulk." The waltz faded out and the partners were called to bow to each other.

Elena clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh, I do love the Virginia Reel!" She tugged the stranger along. "Come, we must follow the leaders."

"Ah, yes," he said sarcastically. "Following the leaders always does us good."

"If they do us wrong, I will leave the dance floor at the end of the song. It's as simple as that."

"Simple as that," he echoed, shaking his head in wonder. "Let us pray they do us no wrong, then."

 **Long update! I decided to split the scene up more than originally planned because I wanted to spend more time on it. Sorry it took me all week to post, I had some homework to catch up on. Shout out to Maddie for input on this story, especially concerning the masquerade aspect (and Matt!). Thanks for the reviews last time, I love hearing from you guys! Can we get 5 reviews before I post the next chapter? (:**


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